


apathy

by valdera



Category: Fairy Tail
Genre: Gen, really this is just a drabble, sorta lucy/brandish
Language: English
Status: Completed
Published: 2016-05-18
Updated: 2016-05-18
Packaged: 2018-06-09 07:10:51
Rating: General Audiences
Warnings: No Archive Warnings Apply
Chapters: 1
Words: 370
Publisher: archiveofourown.org
Story URL: https://archiveofourown.org/works/6895003
Author URL: https://archiveofourown.org/users/valdera/pseuds/valdera
Summary: <blockquote class="userstuff">
              <p>In which Brandish doesn’t care. Really. She doesn’t.</p>
            </blockquote>





	apathy

**Author's Note:**

> so this is unbeta’d so if you find any errors point them out! I’d be happy to fix them. also i already pointed this out in the tags but this is sorta Lucy/Brandish? I myself don’t know.

Lucy Heartfilia is blind.

She is so, so blind and it tears Brandish apart.

Lucy, Brandish knows, is like the millions of stars that twinkle throughout the sky; she is the light to people who have lost their homes. Brandish, really, does not know what to make of her. She does not know what to make of her or anything or really anybody. It is so hard for her to accept that everything she has yet known is not true; simply put, her life has been a lie.

Brandish glances at her now, keeping her gaze hidden from the others. It would be so easy. Fairy Tail is weak, infinitely, pathetically weak. They care far too much; they love, they laugh, they cry.

In a fleeting, useless moment, she entertains the idea. It would not be hard, not really at all, to strike up a conversation with a member of the guild. They are far too trusting, and a friendship, or whatever term they used to describe it, might grow. Perhaps, in time, she could find the strength in herself to approach Lucy. Not that, of course, that it would take much effort at all.

Lucy walks up to her now, smiling brightly. Brandish meets her eyes with a cool, indifferent look. She does not know how to look any other way.

“Hey,” greets Lucy.

“Hey.” The conversation ends, but Lucy remains, smiling peacefully and staring upward at the ceiling.

Brandish does not care. Yet, even as she pointedly avoids looking at her, Lucy is smiling, big and happy and wide, smiling as if Brandish has just shown her the most beautiful thing in the world. She smiles as if Brandish had presented her a gorgeous bouquet of red roses, as if they had enjoyed a morning stroll by a glimmering lake; she smiles as if Brandish herself had smiled. It does not really mean much, Brandish knows, that Lucy smiles. Lucy smiles often, like her very form is magic itself.

_Impossible,_ Brandish tells herself. Lucy is still smiling, and the world lights up, like millions of stars are twinkling brighter and brighter in the dark sky.

It really would be so easy.

And yet, she can’t bring herself to.

**Author's Note:**

> find me @sonnets-of-beauty!


End file.
